


Understand

by WrockStar



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 19:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrockStar/pseuds/WrockStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edmund Pevensie has always felt that he was different and now he knows why. None of his family understand him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understand

**Author's Note:**

> This little fic was my first ever attempt at a fanfic! I'd just watched the first Chronicles of Narnia film and was hooked! I couldn't help but fall in love with Edmund (even if he was a brat! XD)

"Ed! You're being a complete beast! Come out and say you're sorry to Lucy! Ed!"

I gave a small snigger to myself as I quietly watched my brother looking around for me to come and apologise for nothing. All I did was take back my tin soldiers while Lucy (the baby) was playing with them. It wasn't my fault that she began to cry and started calling for Mum. She can be such a baby sometimes, and besides, they were my soldiers anyway and no dumb girl is allowed to play with them. I listened carefully from my hiding place in the airing cupboard, and when the close was clear, I pushed the door open, keeping an earshot for Peter, then bolted to my bedroom. I shut the door with a click, leaning my back against the back of the door, a victorious grin spread across my face.

I could feel the four silver figures digging painfully in my short's pocket, my hand slipping gently inside to touch the comforting coldness that came from them. Actually, they aren't mine. They belong to my Dad and used to live on one of his shelves in the study. Before he went to war, that is. My grin slipped away as memories of my dad flooded through my mind, causing me to clench the men tight. He wasn't supposed to leave. He was supposed to take here with us and keep us safe from the bombings around us. It was his job! He was meant to stay with his family and protect us! Not go off to some stupid war and leave us to fend for ourselves! He promised me he wouldn't leave me!

0000000000000

_"Dad, you can't go!" I cried, white-hot tears stinging the backs of my eyes as I stood at the doorway of my parents' bedroom._

_"Edmund, I'm sorry, but I have to. There's no question in the matter," my father replied gently, pulling open one of the drawers and taking out the last of his clothes to be packed his bag._

_"Tom Carter's dad got his summons too, but he isn't going!"_

_"Tom's dad has a problem with his leg so he can't go. Listen to me, son," he knelt down before me, a callused hand placed on my cheek and wiping away my tears. "I'm only going to be gone for a while and I need you to look after your mother for me while I'm away. Before you know it, I'll be back and we'll be playing football out in the garden again. I need you to do this for me, Eddy. Will you?"_

_I looked down at my dad, tears still making their way down my cheeks. I'd never been able to let him down before so why should I start now? I wiped my nose with the back of one of my sleeves, sniffed and finally gave a small nod._

_Dad smiled at me, and gave my hair a quick ruffle; "Good lad."_

000000000000000

Not long after that, he was gone.

Since then, Mum had tried to carry on, as things were normal. Sending us to school, making us go to the shops with the rations book and sleeping in the shelter when the sirens went off. Even my brother and sisters carried on. Oh, they'd cried the night after Dad was gone, but that hadn't been long enough. Was I the only one who cared that Dad had left us? Didn't they know he might never come back? I'd heard all the news about soldiers dying on the radio in the kitchen so I wasn't stupid.

"Ed?"

A knock on my door shocked me out of my memories and brought me back to reality. It was Susan, the one who always came to sort things out. I gave the voice a scowl and remained quiet.

"Ed, listen…Lucy was really upset when you took those toys away.."

"They're not toys and they're not hers!"

"That doesn't mean you had to snatch them and push her away!"

"She was trying to take them back! It's not my fault that she's a cry-baby!"

A sigh followed.

"Won't you at least come downstairs and tell her you're sorry for once? I'm sure she wouldn't have touched if she'd known."

"No."

"Fine. Be that way, but Mum says you're not having any supper and you can't take those soldiers when we go to Professor Kirke's."

I waited for her footsteps to head away from the door, headed over to the bed and gave the corner of my bed a hard kick and sat with a huff onto it. How could I have forgotten that we were going to his place tomorrow? Ever since the bombings had gotten worse, posters had been appearing everywhere about evacuees and how safe the countryside was for children who lived in the city. I took the figures out of my pocket and placed them on my chest of drawers before lying back onto my bed, closing my eyes. I didn't know I'd fallen asleep until I opened my eyes again and the room was pitch-black.

I could hear Peter's soft snoring coming from the other side of the room. I pushed myself up, the blanket that had somehow covered me slipping down. I looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly midnight. That wasn't what had my attention though. Through the nets on my window and in the far distance, I saw dim balls of orange flaring up followed by a faint rumble.

Bombs.

An excitement ran through me as I quickly pushed myself out of my bed and crept towards the bedroom door, hoping not to wake Peter with the creaky floorboard. I pushed the handle down and slipped out as quietly as I could. The best place to watch the raids was from the living room. It had a massive window and you could see Westminister and Big Ben really clearly from there. The sirens starting to whine now, letting the neighbourhood know what was going on nearby and that they had to head to their shelter quick. Why go? They didn't know what they were missing!

Footsteps started upstairs, getting quicker and more urgent the closer they came. The family was up and were probably grabbing things to take with them for the rest of the night. They needn't bother because nothing made that place comfortable. It was small, cold and smelly. I was glad I'd only been in there a couple of times.

"Edmund, get away from there! Peter!" a voice shrieked at him.

My big brother came running into the room, panic and urgency written all over his face.

"What do you think you're doing?" my mother yelled at me. "Peter, quickly, the shelter! Now!"

Of course, being the idiot I know he is, Peter grabbed my arm and started pulling me towards the door. I had other ideas. There was no way that I could leave without Dad's picture! It was the only one I had of him and I didn't want it to get all blown up, "Wait!"

"Come on… leave it!"

It was too late to grab it before he pulled me harder and out to the back garden door with everyone else. I could hear the bangs getting louder and my sisters' screams at all the noise. I only had one thought and that was to go back and get that picture. They would just have to wait for me while I got it. "Wait! Dad!" With that, I finally yanked myself out of Peter's grasp and pelted back through the door. I knew that he was coming back after me, but we'd both get out if I was quick enough. There was a sudden high-pitched noise as I grabbed the photograph, and before I knew it, Peter yelled 'Get down!', pulling me against him, underneath the seat and covering me when the bay window smashed with the force of a nearby explosion. That was it. I'd gotten it. Now we could go. I let him pull me again without any fuss, both running for our lives while the planes appeared in masses above us. Peter gave me a hard shove into the shelter and I fell beside Mum, relief at having my treasure flooding through me.

"Why can't you think of anyone but yourself? You're so selfish! You could have got us killed!"

Why was he yelling at me? He had to understand how much that picture meant to me. I pulled it closer to me when Mum told Peter to stop it and for the first time, I appreciated her holding me close. I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears of how much I missed my dad and letting the sounds of Lucy's sobs and Peter's heavy breathing pass over me.

It didn't matter.

None of them understand.


End file.
